


bust your kneecaps

by soapyconnor



Category: The Godfather (1972 1974 1990), The Godfather - Mario Puzo
Genre: Blood, Death, M/M, Murder, a character gets gutted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 02:03:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12180735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soapyconnor/pseuds/soapyconnor
Summary: it's such a shame, that you became such an issue . . .dear tom i'll miss you





	bust your kneecaps

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from the song bust your kneecaps by pomplamoose

            Michael had no choice. He had to do this.

            He glanced over at Tom’s broken and bloodied body. A deep part of him hurt just to look at him, but it was easily squashed by other emotions, and the need to prove himself. He glanced over at the two men that he brought with them. He didn’t know them. They had been given to him when he asked for reinforcements. Apparently, they were good and kept quiet. So far, they had been. He hoped that they would continue. He didn’t want anymore blood on his hands today.

            Tom laid on the floor, slumped against the wall, his chin pressed against his chest. His eyes stared blankly at the floor, and blood dripped out of his mouth with each breath he took. His skin was gray and his eyes were sunken in. He wheezed. The fight had drained out of him a long time ago.

            Michael gripped the knife in his hand. He stepped forward and crouched down. “Tell me who you told the family secrets too and this will stop.”

            Tom glared at him weakly. “Fuck you,” he whispered.

            Michael leaned forward, and whispered in his ear, “You wish we were doing that.”

            Tom tensed, and he coughed. Michael sat back on his heels.

            He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t believe that Tom would do this. Tom had been loyal to the family ever since he had been saved off the street. Tom and Sonny had been close—Michael and Tom had been closer in a different way. Tom had been happy with them. He wouldn’t have spilled anything. But Michael had been pushed. Pushed too far and had even been accused of being weak. He wanted to save Tom. But he couldn’t.

            “I was your lover,” Tom murmured, gripping Michael’s wrist, “And Sonny considered me a brother. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

            “It means everything to me,” Michael whispered back, pressing a knife hard against Tom’s stomach. “I don’t want to do this. You know I don’t. Can’t you see it in my eyes?”

            “I can’t see anything in yours anymore,” Tom whispered, “You’re not the person I used to know.”

            “I had to change. You know that. I would have been eaten alive.” Michael patted Tom’s cheek. “I can see in your eyes that you’re telling the truth. But who else will believe you? I killed Fredo. I can kill you.”

            “You can let me go. You disappeared for a year. I can go as well,” he whispered, weakly gripping Michael’s arm. “Force them to leave and just send me somewhere.”

            “Tom . . .” he tsked. “You know I can’t do that.” Tom slumped again. “But if you tell me what you told others, I will let you go.”

            “You know I can’t!”  
            “You know I have no other choice. Paranoia is a bitch, don’t you know?” He then realized that he had been stroking Tom’s face. He shook his head, and then pressed the knife deeper into Tom’s stomach, and _cut_.

Tom choked and there was loud squelching noise as Michael gutted him. At the same time, one of the men Michael brought with him injected Tom with a drug, making sure he was still alive. Tom gasped and weakly struggled, but moaned and closed his eyes tightly shut.

“It’s such a shame,” Michael whispered, leaning forward and shrouding his and Tom’s face from view, as he placed a soft kiss on his lips, “that you became such an issue.”

He rose slowly, and Tom’s eyes followed him. He pulled out his hand gun, and pressed it against Tom’s forehead. “Dear Tom,” he said softly, “I’ll miss you.” He pulled the trigger, causing blood to explode across the wall behind him. Some of it ricocheted and splattered against Michael’s clothes.

            One of the men stepped forward, holding out a hand. He took Michael’s gun from him. “What do you want us to do with the body?”

            “Take him to this funeral home,” he said, holding out a card. “Tell him it’s from his Godfather. Prepare him for burial.”

            “You’re going to give him a funeral?” the other man asked, staring at him hard.

            Michael met his gaze evenly. “Yes. I will. His family should be able to mourn him. He is still my family as well. He deserves to be mourned.”

            “He was a traitor.”

            “You will shut your mouth.”

            The two men exchanged looks but nodded. Michael took a deep breath, and traded his jacket with one of the men before he left. He had no idea what he was going to tell Tom’s family. He would have time to think though. He closed his eyes.

            _Might you recall._

_We have a small family business._

_And the Family won’t like this._


End file.
